To Remember
by HowlingMisfit
Summary: Imelda felt like she was being punished.


**To Remember**

 **Summery:** Imelda felt like she was being punished.

 **A/N:** I apologize ahead of time, I don't know any Spanish, so I kept it to a minimum. Next time I'll try a little harder, but I was afraid of butchering it here. Since this is the first Coco fanfic I had ever wrote, and I wanted to have a decent first impression to this fandom. Love the movie to pieces, somehow it melted my usually stone cold heart. So I hope you enjoy this, and don't be afraid to leave a review. I don't bite. I promise.

...

 **To Remember**

When she felt her estranged husband's bones become solid in her arms once more. Imelda felt a sense of relief wash over her. She told herself that the worst was over, and as soon as Hector wakes up they're going to have a very, very long talk. Of course she was still angry, he had still left. What happened to him after was Ernesto's fault, and him almost crumbling into dust was mostly her fault (yes, she admits it. She may be proud but she is willing to admit her mistakes. That's how you learn. That's how you grow stronger.) But she has well over a century's worth of wisdom to go off on, so now it's time to put that to use.

Imelda stared down at him, the golden light had almost succeeded with breaking him down into almost nothing. She still felt her long dead heart race in her chest in a blind panic. But that strange light brought him back, much sturdier with that healthy white glow that shows that his story was being passed down. Even if their relationship doesn't work out, she would take comfort in knowing that things were put back in order. He's back where he belongs (if he wants to come back with them at all, that is. If he just wanted to be remembered, that he already moved on. She'll tell herself that she'll be okay.)

Imelda continued to stare down at her husbands face, if she concentrates hard enough. She could still see the features that once sat over those bones. The nose that was a just little too big, the ears that stuck out a just little too far. But she always thought he was handsome, maybe it was that smile, or the way his eyes would practically sparkle when he plays his guitar or even when he looks at her. Passionate, full of life and a fire that sometimes felt a little overwhelming. She had said it herself, he was the love of her life. But maybe that was the worst part, he had looked exactly like the last living memory she had of him. It made her head spin, and it certainly made her bones shake.

If she ever sees de la Cruz again she will do more than bash his head in with her boot. If she could, she would personally deal out his punishment. To make sure that he knows that karma will always comes back with a vengeance. Especially for people like him, who honestly think that he can get away with murder. He'll get his. She swears. He will get his.

Hector suddenly began to stir beneath her, causing her to instinctively hold her breath. She slowly became aware of their audience, but she brushed it off. They don't matter. It was all about him, that was all she cared about right now. He bared his teeth, face contorting in pain before his eyes fluttered open. He looked up at her, eyes wide and afraid.

"Hector?" She found her voice again, relieved to see him awake. But something felt.. off, those once soulful eyes now were almost white, even though these eyes that they all use were porcelain, it still reflected the life that used them. There was something missing. She couldn't really understand it until he gave her a confused glare. Clearly uncomfortable about the situation that he was suddenly in.

"Do I... know you?"

That was when her punishment began.

...

He didn't have much of a choice, she wouldn't let it. That and he couldn't really walk right now. (She curses that man again, the one she refuses to speak of.) Hector of course compliments their home, despite the horrific situation he was in. It made her heart break again, how could she have ever doubted him in the first place? This man couldn't hurt anything, he was too kind. She was so quick to forget the actual man she had married in favor for the faceless monster that abandoned his family.

He was curled up on the couch, Rosita tucking him in with the fluffiest blanket they have. Imelda sat on the coffee table in front of him. "Okay, are you sure you don't recognize me?"

He nodded. The lack of light behind those eyes continued to make Imelda uncomfortable. They may be dead, but not to this degree. It was like everything that was uniquely Hector was carved out. This was nothing but a shell. It reminded her of a corpse.

She had to try something else. "Where do you live?"

He paused for a moment, his face going blank as he tried to remember anything. "I live in a house, I know that. It's very small. I think there were other people there..."

Imelda called in her brothers. Oscar and Felipe quickly crowded around the pair. Leaning in. They had moved in with them shortly after Coco was born, as their house was burned to the ground after a series of unfortunate events. (Mostly involving a goat, if she remembered correctly.) Even though their home was small, Hector still welcomed them with open arms. Imelda pointed to them. "Did they look like this?"

Hector's face went blank again, and she could see his face grow frustrated. "No... sorry."

Both Oscar and Felipe seem deflate at the same time. It wasn't fair, they have so much to repair so of course Hector has to go and lose his mind. Wouldn't expect anything less from the man. Hector was the personification of a disaster.

Hector stared down at his hands. "I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong person... I think it's best that I should leave as soon as I can. I don't want to cause you any more trouble."

The memory of Hector walking out the front door, guitar strapped to his back and suitcase in hand flashed in her mind. Imelda felt a chill go up her spine. Quickly reaching out to take his hand. "No!" She caught herself before she could become more frantic. The last thing she needed was to scare Hector away (again, she thought bitterly.) Imelda couldn't live with the thought of Hector going out there, especially after everything that happened.

"We know who you are." Imelda stared into his lifeless eyes, suppressing a shiver. "We just need to find a way to bring you back. I promise."

Hector gave her a questioning look, unsure if he should trust this complete stranger. Imelda could see it. "Sure. I guess. But I swear I'm not this Hector." She could tell that he's only staying put to just entertain her, maybe he pities her, and she doesn't know if she should feel relieved or frustrated.

...

Weeks went by, with no signs of progress. Much to her growing disappointment. But she had learned more about Hector's life after death. Several people, mostly dressed in old rags, in various states of slowly being forgotten arrived at her door. Asking for 'cousin Hector' asking if he's okay. News tends to spread quickly, especially with something like this. But she didn't expect this. So she resisted the urge to slam the door in their face and let them in. If his own familia couldn't jog his memory, than maybe his.. 'new' familia could.

The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Don't you recognize us?" An older skeleton asked, gently patting the back of his hand. Hector shook his head, not really liking this sort of attention. Another woman, roughly around the same age as him gently shook his shoulders. Imelda especially wanted to throw her out. But she stayed back. The woman was a pretty little thing, too pretty if you ask her. Pretty enough to cause trouble.

"Come on, mi amigo!" The younger woman huffed. "Hector, this better not be one of your dumb tricks!" She sighed, sitting back down in her chair looking just as frustrated as everyone else. Hector shrank back into his seat, shaking his head and apologizing to these people.

Imelda felt grim satisfaction.

...

It was a week after that when Frida freaking Carlo waltzed into her foyer. Spirit guide perched proudly on her shoulder. She was followed by a much shorter man, who was looking pretty guilty himself.

"Hey, listen, man." The shorter fellow said, looking down at his shoes in discomfort as looking at the shell that used to be Hector was too much. "I know that you don't recognize me. But I want to say sorry about the whole chorizo thing, everyone back at the studio are sorry too. We were there when the who de la Cruz thing went down and we just feel so terrible..."

"de la Cruz?" Something sparked behind Hector's eyes, but as fast as it went. It was gone. He frowned at the shorter man. "Well, I don't know about anything that you said. But I guess you're... forgiven?"

If Imelda wasn't in her right mind, she would've screamed. Mentioning de la Cruz sparked something when nothing else would? Has that man taken enough from them?

Frida turned to her, and Imelda could tell that she was silently judging her. Maybe she saw this as a punishment too? She did say that she was a friend of Hector's, maybe she had more of an insight about his emotions before all of this happened. Maybe Hector really was more angry at Imelda than he originally lets on (and she wouldn't blame him) and Frida was judging her accordingly. Then again Imelda has gotten pretty rusty when it comes to reading people. Obviously. "Do you have a record player? Maybe some of his own music would help?"

She could feel her family flinch and back away from her. Imelda narrowed her eyes. "No, and he has no recordings of himself, and I refuse to let any form of de la Cruz in my home. Not after everything that he did to this family."

What would Hector say when he finds out that she had banished all music? He knew about the picture on the ofrenda and the attempt to forget him. But music? The thing that brought him so much life and joy, the thing that brought them together. Deprived their own daughter of the only thing that connected her to her father. She could almost see the look of horror and betrayal on his face.

"Who's de la Cruz?" Hector looked up at the woman who's letting him stay in her home. Her expression not changing, like she didn't even hear the question, or pretending that she didn't.

"A man that's best left forgotten." Was her reply. And that was enough, at least for the moment. The smaller man (she didn't even bother to learn the mans name, but she does know that he's a musician too) looked away from Hector's questioning gaze. Maybe they were all a little guilty in some way. But that's what happens when people practically worships a celebrity.

...

It was the sixth week when Imelda caved in and brought a guitar into her home. Pressing it into Hector's skeletal hands. She saw that spark again, he knew what this was. Without asking, Hector gently tested the string. Even though it ended as a sour note that made them both flinch.

"Do you know how to play?" Her voice was uneven. Hector's face went blank once again, trying to process the question before shaking his head.

"No. Sorry."

That night Imelda cried herself to sleep.

...

It was the twelfth week, when Hector was strong enough that they took him to places he should recognize. First they took him to Shantytown to gather the few belongings that he owns, besides the plans on crossing the Marigold Bridge and the half built contraptions that came with it, of course, as they were no longer needed. Seeing the absolute hell hole that Hector stayed in for almost a century was devastating enough. But seeing the plans to visit their Coco was the moment Imelda realizes how dedicated Hector still was to his family. (She's never going to let go. Not again. Never again.)

The trip to the studios was another experience altogether. Several musicians crowded around him asking him all sorts of questions that Hector has no way of answering. Many people stopped what they were doing (as they were still cleaning up from the disaster that was the Sunrise Spectacular), and Imelda swore that one woman was wearing only a robe. She made sure that she steered Hector away from her. Just because he doesn't remember that's he a married man doesn't mean that he isn't, and Imelda was feeling pretty possessive that day. If anyone in her family had noticed her behavior, they would be wise enough to not say anything.

...

"That's nice coco." Hector said nonchalantly, after taking the sip of his mug. Rosita stopped what she was talking about, turning around and practically lunging at the poor man.

"What did you call me?" Rosita looked down at him, anticipation practically radiating from her body. Imelda heard him from the living room. Quickly joining Rosita.

Rosita looked back at the Matriarch with a smile. "I think he just called me Coco."

"Did you?" Imelda felt a lump form in her throat. Hector looked up at both woman, clearly startled.

"I just said that it was nice coco." Hector picked up his mug to show what he meant. "I don't think I know a Coco... Should I know a Coco?"

For the umpteenth time since Hector had joined them, she resisted the powerful urge to throw her shoe at his head. Instead she lets out a frustrated scream. Causing the rest of her family to retreat to their designated hiding place. She promised herself that she would never let Hector get under her skin again, but she's a skeleton now. So there was no skin.

...

It was one of those nights, where the family breaks out the tequila and who else knows what. Imelda was never found of drinking, but Hector had been a known party animal back in the day. He and that other man who shall not be mentioned had a ton of stories of their drunken escapades that used to even get someone like Imelda to giggle uncontrollability.

But when Julio poured a shot and slid it over to Hector. She watched him stare down at it, a look of confusion before something flashed behind his eyes. It was brief, but she was fast enough to pick up on that look of betrayal and terror.

Julio didn't catch the look. "Come on Hector! It'll put hair on your chest!" Behind him Rosita giggled.

"Uh... I'm fine. I don't really drink." Hector gave him a sheepish smile. Gently pushing the shot glass back. Julio shrugged, finally picking up on Hector's mood and made the decision not to press on the matter.

Imelda glared at the glass, so that's how that evil man did it. Hector had always trusted him with almost everything, so it became second nature to share a drink with a 'best friend'. It wasn't bad that he had taken Hector's life, but he had to take the simple and little joys that life often gifted them away too.

That night Imelda threw out the tequila. Along with all the shot glasses. She knows that she would have to replace them eventually, but to see that unconscious flash of relief shine behind Hector's often blank gaze was worth it.

...

Imelda silently watched him from the kitchen window. He was in the garden with Julio and Victoria, guitar resting on his lap. He announced the other night that the guitar Imelda brought for him was interesting and he's thinking about learning how to play it.

Does that count as progress? She doesn't know, but she'll call it that. Because she needs something. Anything. It's like Hector leaving all over again and she's back to telling herself that he'll be home soon. Just give it a few more days. He'll come back, he promised. He always comes back...

Watching him listening to one of Julio's crazy stories was yet another reminder of just how much he missed. Just how young he was.

When Hector left, he had made a mistake only a young man would make. Things were different back then and they were married when they were barely adults. Hector still had a lot of maturing to do, as being that age was supposed to be reserved for finding ones identity, even for building a career. Not settling down, not giving up everything to provide for a family. Looking back, neither of them were exactly ready to do any of that. How the times have changed, and Imelda was glad that Coco waited a just little longer than she did before settling down and her grandchildren waited even longer. She was proud of all of them.

It still didn't change the fact that he left in the first place. But in the end, he still wanted to go home. She felt her missing stomach twist again, she had prevented him from coming home a second time... Maybe losing his memory was for the best, maybe he deserves to start over again. To forget the decades of hurt and pain and loneliness. Her mind flashed to the residents of Shantytown, they clearly cared about him...maybe he should go back to them.

She was jostled out of her thoughts when there was a knocking at her door. She groaned, putting down the plate she was drying and stomping through the foyer. She doesn't need any surprise visitors today. Usually it was some of the people that she had seen on the devil boxes, or people that Hector knows (she gave up on them stirring up anything in his mind.) Or worse, 'fans'. She was especially annoyed with that.

She was ready to remove a shoe and raise some hell of her own but stopped when two uniformed officers greeted her instead of a stray newshound or a 'I'm your number one fan!' Imelda was frozen in her spot. "Um, may I help you?"

The two officers, who were both stony faced broke out into matching grins that reminded her of when her brothers were up to no good. Before she could react she was assaulted by a face full of confetti and the distinct toot of a noisemaker. She grumbled to herself, she should've known that they were going to do that. It had happened before.

"Congratulations! It's a girl!" The woman officer chimed in. Stepping aside to reveal a third figure that was hidden behind them. "Let me reintroduce you to the newest member of your deceased family!"

"Mama?"

It was Coco.

Imelda felt her bones turn to ice. There stood Coco. Her Coco. Her baby... their baby. Imelda felt panic, she wasn't ready for her. She thought she had more time. Hector wasn't making any significant progress (he just finally learned their names for heavens sake!) Coco is going to ask about her father, and Imelda has no clue how to begin to explain to her about what happened to Hector. How can she tell her daughter that her father may never be coming home, despite physically being here?

Then, all at once it hits her just how much she missed her baby. Imelda ran past the officers to embrace her. To able to hold her again, to even just absentmindedly play with her braids when Coco would curl up next to her (it didn't even matter when she was a grown adult and still curled up next to her mama) was something that she missed so much. Imelda never wanted to let go again. Especially not after everything that happened.

"Coco!" Rosita practically screeched, running up and practically swinging her around. "Oh I missed you so much!"

Coco laughed, pulling both of them close. "Where are the others?"

"They're out in the back." Rosita led Coco through the front entrance with Imelda not too far behind. She nodded to the officers before slamming the door in their faces. Despite the good news, Imelda hated having confetti thrown in her face.

They just entered the foyer, with Coco taking a moment to take off her shoes. "Is... Papa here?" The way Imelda froze and Rosita gasped was more on an answer for Coco. Imelda watched as some of that life left Coco. "So...he's not here either."

Imelda sighs, wrapping an arm around her girl. "Well... not exactly but...he is here."

Coco looked up at her, eyes wide. "He's here?!" The woman may be well in her nineties, but Imelda immediately recognizes the energy that could only belong to Coco. Something that she had inherited from her father, unfortunately.

"But there is something you should know, he's not exactly...and there she goes." She watched Coco make her way into the kitchen and Imelda felt defeated. She wanted to either fix Hector before Coco dies or sit her down to gently explain why her own father won't recognize her.

Coco disappeared through the back door in a desperate stride from waiting well over ninety years to see her father. She was greeted by Julio first, which slowed her down. Covering her with long awaited kisses. Coco paused, clearly happy to see her husband again. Then there was Victoria, whose reunion lasted even longer. Imelda stood at the entrance. Happy to see her family mostly put back together.

Then Coco finally finds Hector, who hadn't moved from the bench, probably thinking he should stay back because that was obviously a family matter. Imelda held her breath, maybe Coco would finally be the one to stir his memory. Maybe that's the piece she was missing. Because what father couldn't recognize his own daughter.

But as soon as she saw that lifeless gaze, and that confused frown. Imelda could already feel the dread build up in her spine.

"Oh, who are you?"

Coco paused, looking back at Imelda before returning to Hector. "Papa. It's me... I know I'm not as small as I used to be. But it's still me..."

Hector frowned, slowly shaking his head. "Sorry, but I don't have any children."

His eyes widen with panic when he watched this older woman began to sob. "I waited for you, every night. Even though I knew you weren't coming home. But I still waited!"

Imelda watched as a long dead parental instinct flared up inside of Hector, as he put the guitar aside, going to comfort the very distressed woman. Imelda silently directed the others to go inside. But she remained in place, unable to look away as Coco brought something out of Hector she hadn't seen in almost a century.

"I'm sorry." Hector reluctantly patted her back, guiding Coco to sit next to him. "Everyone here thinks I'm this Hector fella. Maybe we're long lost twins or something."

Coco shook her head, looking down at her feet. Hector stops patting her back, leaning over to pick up his guitar. "From the way everyone talks about him, he must be the better looking twin too, eh?"

Coco managed to laugh a little, but Imelda could tell that Coco finally notices those eyes by the way she shivers. Those lifeless, corpse like eyes.

"Maybe I can help you guys find him..? What was he like?" Hector asked Imelda that before too, after a particular attempt left her more distraught than usual. ("Remember when we first met, you accidentally got tangled up with your horse and it dragged you through the plaza, until you were tossed into my fathers fruit stand?"- "No. Sorry, Miss, But that does sounds like a riot.") Despite how uncomfortable the subject of missing his memory makes him, he's still willing to comfort a complete stranger. Typical Hector, pulling at her heartstrings and not even knowing it.

Coco chose to stare down at the guitar in his hands. "My papa, he was a musician... he and mama used to sing the most beautiful songs..."

"He did?" Hector smiled at her. "Sounds like a nice guy." Imelda crept a little closer, the many times she had described her husband. Nothing seemed to happen, but Coco is definitely doing something by the way Hector was reacting to her. Imelda remained quiet, not wanting to disturb this moment.

"He was, he was one of the most kindest person I've ever known..." She trailed off, her hands playing with one of her braids. "He wrote a song, just for me. It was like our secret." She smiled at the memory. "Every night at the same time we would sing it, even when he was away."

"Really?" Hector paused, looking down at the guitar in his hands. His face twisting in thought, something was there, but it was like he couldn't quite grasp it. "Did he...play the guitar when he sang your song? Like a lullaby?"

Imelda covered her mouth with a hand, slowly sinking to the ground. Not trusting herself to remained silent.

"He did." Coco looked at him. "He never forgot his guitar. He could probably play it in his sleep."

"That's nice... How did your song go?" Hector's fingers unconsciously went for the guitar neck, wrapping his hand around and pressing his finger bones to the strings. It was clear that he doesn't know what he was doing, but he was holding the guitar like how he used to. Imelda glanced behind her shoulder to see the others crowded around the kitchen window.

"Do you know how it goes?" Coco asked, when Hector shook his head. She looked back at her hands, disappointed. "Okay... I'll teach you then..."

Coco sat up straighter, taking a deep breath. "Remember me..." she began to sing, keeping her voice low as she was singing just for him. In a way Imelda would sometimes catch her at night when she was younger, but didn't have the heart to stop her. She continued singing, Hector leaned in, corpse like eyes wide with curiosity. Like something clicked, but Imelda knows at this point not to read too much into it.

"Each time you hear a sad guitar..." Coco trailed off, seeing that this wasn't having the effect she wanted. Hector still remained just as confused, though not as uncomfortable as he usually would be.

He frowned when she suddenly stopped singing. "Why did you stop...? It was very pretty, I would love to learn the rest."

She sighed, gently strumming one of the guitar strings. "It's just not the same... I guess it's because I miss him so much. You know?" Coco sighed, taking a little longer to stand up. Hector looked down at the guitar on his lap, his usual blank face twisting in concentration again as something tried to desperately claw its way to the surface.

Imelda stood up herself, walking over to gently pet the back of her daughters head. Mentally preparing for the long night of answering a ton of questions and comforting her heartbroken daughter. "Oh, Coco. Sweetheart. It's okay... It's..."

"Know that I'm with you... the only way that I can be..."

Imelda paused, both her and Coco turned around to face Hector. Who gently began to strum the final notes with the precision of someone who had known this song by heart. "Hector?"

She watched as those lifeless eyes began to shift into something more recognizable, turning back into those large brown eyes that she had spent years dreaming about when she was alive. Something that she had been waiting for since he had woken up. Those eyes, the ones that shined with memories, and love, and passion that she would sometimes feel a little overwhelmed. He smiled weakly at them, and she could tell he would be crying if he had the ability to.

"Until you're in my arms again..." Coco joined him, sitting back down on the bench. She reached out, gently cupping his face with both hands. Resting her forehead against his.

"Remember me..."

Hector stared into his daughters eyes, his face finally lighting up with recognition. "Coco?" She nodded. Hector puts down the guitar before pulling her in a hug. "I missed you so much..."

Imelda finally lets out a dry sob that she was holding back. Hand firmly clamped over her mouth again. Hector looked away from Coco, as he had noticed that his wife was just as distressed. "Imelda? Mi amor, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Imelda went over, gathering both of them in her arms. "I'm just so happy that you're home..."

Inside of the kitchen, Rosita used a kitchen rag to dry the nonexistent tears on her cheeks. "Oh, how beautiful. We're all together now."

"Yeah." Julio chuckled warmly at the reunited family just outside of the window. "That's my Coco. She always manages to fix everything."

Behind them something rattled, Victoria turned and lets out a frustrated huff. Oscar and Felipe were both carrying several different things that looked like they salvaged from the trash, possibly for something completely useless.

Oscar looked over his pile and smiled, wondering why everyone was looking out of the kitchen window. "What did we miss?"

 **End**.

 **A/N** : All aboard the Pain Train! Sob! Sob! Seriously, not a lot of movies could make me cry, but this one almost killed me.

After finally sitting down to watch Coco the other day. I'm obsessed! So of course I'm going to write my own. Because that's how this party rolls. Since I'm practically legendary with making people cry (mostly my friend, who I would send short sad stories about our RP to and she would call me later a complete wreck and that would make me cackle. I am a monster. Her misery fuels me.) So this movie is a perfect fit for me.

But I also tried to keep it a little lighthearted too. Because of course Hector would find his way into a metaphorical sink hole.

Also, the thing with Julio- the whole "it'll put hair on your chest" thing is something that I learned from my Grandma. It was a joke, something that her father would always say to her and her siblings. "Eat your bread crust, it'll put hair on your chest." Since this story (and the movie it's based on) is about passing down memories, I thought I would put a special memory of my own in there. Love you, Grandma. You crazy old bat.

I might write more. Hector is my new favorite character right now and the inspiration is making my fingers itch to write again. It's been awhile since inspiration had hit me like this, it's like seeing an old friend.

But until I decide to grace you with my presence again. I wish you the best! Thank you for reading, and of course, happy waiting!- HM


End file.
